


Midsummer

by Terfle



Category: Les Trois Mousquetaires | The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
Genre: F/M, Sex, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 23:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12714771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terfle/pseuds/Terfle
Summary: A peek at Milady & Rochefort working to retrieve the diamonds from Buckingham's person





	1. Chapter 1

He saw her from across the room, a vibrant figure in green and grey, fingers delicately holding a wine glass, hair glinting in the light of the setting sun. A warm breeze drifted over to him and he took a moment to exhale the scent of midsummer, a hint of honeysuckle. A waiter bustled past with some treats and he took some to occupy himself with. Ice cream. Milady had a liking for ice cream, he remembered. For some reason it amused him, the thought of bringing her some ice cream. Up until a while ago, he would have gone out of his way to block her and the seductive wiles she employed. But recently he was finding a new admiration for the lady, her job wasn’t the easiest. No other could play the part she did and still do what she had been instructed to. He was just the overseer. If it was up to him, he wouldn’t have chosen to be at this party. But she was the expert socialite and he was there to make sure everything was going the way it should do. And so far it was.

He slipped across to her, a shadow just out of her eye line and slid to the chaise longue behind her, back to back, their heads almost touching. He could feel strands of her hair tickling his neck and breathed in her perfume, vanilla with a touch of jasmine. He didn’t know that of course not being a sentimental man but he just knew that he liked whatever alluring scent she used to attract the kind of clientele she needed to this evening. The rich idiots who relied on flattery to lull them into a false sense of security so she could search them out and find what she was looking for. She always managed it in the end.

She tipped her head back a little, signalling that she was aware of his presence. Turning around, he politely enquired if she was enjoying the party.

‘Rochefort, if I wasn’t enjoying the party, you know where I’d be’ she said, inclining her head slightly. This was code for _‘I’d rather not be here if it wasn’t for that idiot Buckingham and his box of diamonds.’_ He liked how she worded her thoughts so accordingly.

‘Perhaps you would care for some refreshment?’ He asked, displaying the proffered treat. This was code for _‘Allow me to relieve you of the tedium with something more interesting than listening to Buckingham waffle all night.’_ Her eyes rested on the melting ice cream escaping over the bowl and her face lit up. His heart beat fast, for she had raised her eyes to his a second later and the smile was meant for him.

‘Much appreciated.’ She took the bowl and swirled the contents around. Licking the smooth white cream from the spoon, the taste of vanilla was both subtle and intense and she momentarily closed her eyes and gave a shiver that had everything to do with the pleasure as much as the cold. Rochefort briefly wondered what it would be like to be the man that attracted her attention, real or otherwise. Lucky Buckingham. But only for a moment. Buckingham was being played for everything she could get off of him and Rochefort had no sympathy for the vain arrogant fool that was going to get what he deserved when his diamonds would go ‘missing’ by the morning. 

The man in question was opposite, observing this display sullenly. He clearly thought Rochefort to be an upstart, bringing the lady some ice cream when it should have been him. She gave him a slight conspiratorial wink and turned her attention to the bruised ego of Buckingham who was leaning forward and trying to engage her in chat. Rochefort left them to it and wandered over to the windows, looking out across the lush garden. Everything was going according to plan.


	2. Chapter 2

The brittle dark squares of chocolate were heaped on a plate on the end of the coffee table. Rochefort helped himself to a piece and leaned back, closing his eyes, his mind wandering over many thoughts and instances. He was savouring the bittersweet romance of the treat when the door opened and Milady walked in unaccompanied with her supposed date for the night, the dastardly Buckingham.

‘I thought I might find you here.’

He acknowledged her with a nod of his head and went back to enjoying his chocolate.

‘I didn’t realise you liked dark chocolate.’

‘It’s the best quality chocolate. What’s not to like?’

‘Of course’ she mocked him gently. He opened one eye and enquired if she was deriding him. ‘I am simply agreeing’ said she, leaning forward and taking a piece herself. He closed his eye and carried on thinking, the taste of the chocolate fading from his tongue. Taking a swig of wine from his glass, he went back to his thoughts. His glance took in the mirror that hung opposite, conveniently with her reflection in it. She had draped herself on the chaise longue apparently also deep in thought.

‘Penny for them?’ He asked lightly. She shook herself out of her reverie and smiled at him. ‘They aren’t worth much.’

‘Says who?’

‘Well I think Buckingham might have a say so’ she teased.

‘Buckingham’s idea of a say so on your part is to listen to his endless drivel and agree’ he pointed out delicately.

‘Quite true. But as he himself isn’t aware of it, I think I’ll leave him to his illusions. No use shattering them now’ she said, stretching like a cat and settling into the comfortable plush seating. ‘Perhaps later.’

‘Not your idea of an ideal man, Buckingham?’ He asked curiously. So far nobody was Milady’s kind of a man; she hadn’t settled on anyone as far as he had known her. A wealthy widow, she made it her business to flirt around the socialites to gain information she needed for her purpose.

‘He has nothing relevant or interesting to say’ she replied bluntly. But she hadn’t specified what was relevant or interesting to her, Rochefort noticed. Silence reigned again as the noise of the party carried on, muffled by the calm of the room.

She reached for another piece of chocolate just as he did and took the piece he had been eyeing for some time.

‘Hey, that piece was mine’ he protested courteously.

‘It’s too late now’ she responded cheekily.

‘Madame, I demand you give that back’ he jested with her. She raised an eyebrow and challenged him to come to her in pursuit of the treat.

‘Well Sir, I advise you to come and get what you want.’ She raised the rich chocolate square to her lips and slipped it into her mouth, evoking a strange sort of pleasure from him. All too often witnessing women who denied themselves more than a bite of dessert, Rochefort was ready to admit that he was becoming aroused by this lady who confessed and indulged her pleasures for sweet treats outright. He didn’t hold back, walking over to her and leaning over to place his mouth on hers. He gently sought her lips with his and for an infinite moment they were oblivious to everything else. He could taste the chocolate on her tongue as they pulled closer and entwined around each other; her fingers slipping under his shirt and stroking his chest, him stroking strands of hair away from her forehead and caressing her neck.

The rogue half melted piece of chocolate yielded to his tongue and they softly ended the kiss, breaking away gently, he only realising that he was nearly wrapped around her once he had opened his eyes. She opened her eyes with a soft sigh and was looking at him mischievously, seemingly satisfied as if they had been making love.

He grinned at her, signifying he now held possession of that coveted piece of chocolate.

‘Well Monsieur Rochefort, are you happy with your treat?’ She teased him.

He had no words left. He was happy with his treat.


	3. Chapter 3

‘Another week?’

‘I’ll get them, don’t you worry.’

They lay in bed, the warm breeze whispering through the curtains. His head rested on her chest and his arms held her close, her fingers stroking his neck. He sighed sleepily. Tomorrow was another day, back to the daily grind. They had a few hours left tonight to relax.

Milady had promised Buckingham a night this week, making him wait for his pleasure, keeping him keen. She knew just how to play the waiting game. By the time she would appear for their dinner date, he would be frothing at the mouth. Rochefort thought of the Prime Minister and his slimy ways. He couldn’t think of how Milady could pretend to enjoy his company. He wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face for being such an arrogant bore. He communicated this and she laughed, thinking of what fun it would be to see him floored. He would deserve it.

‘I’m giving myself ideas. I’ll be staying away when you conduct your little rendezvous. You won’t be up all night, I take it?’

She chuckled.

‘You don’t actually think I’ll bed him, do you? Give me some credit. I have far more sophisticated means than that.’

‘Such as?’ He enquired. He knew she had many methods at her disposal.

‘I can slip a little something in his wine. Something that’ll make him sleep like a baby.’

‘After you’ve removed enough clothes?’

‘Of course. I have to make it realistic.’

They both laughed at the thought of a boorish snoring Buckingham in only his undergarments, face down on the bed until morning. That was what would happen once she’d got him right where she wanted him. He’d wake up with a hangover and would be none the wiser.

‘That would be awkward at the breakfast table.’ He smirked at the thought.

‘If he even manages to make it downstairs in the morning.’ They shared a moment of camaraderie at the thought of Buckingham’s discomfort, when he would face the Milady the morning after he could have sworn they had slept together. She would be flawlessly demure as always and he would look no less like the donkey that he was. There was no greater revenge, making someone look stupid in public. Milady was an expert at the art.

They heard footsteps outside and he rolled over to his side of the bed. That was their signal to sleep. It led to one step closer to the diamonds. Tomorrow was another day.

 


End file.
